


Tumblr Drabbles

by Mysenia



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Peter Hale, Alpha/Omega, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Blood Drinking, Dom/sub Undertones, Feral Behavior, M/M, Masturbation, Mates, Mating Bites, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Nesting, Omega Stiles Stilinski, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Semi-Public Sex, Stalker Peter, Time Travel, Werewolf Courting, Wolf Peter, Yoga, broken relationship, mentions of gore, stiles is something
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-05-24 02:17:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6137947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mysenia/pseuds/Mysenia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Each chapter will be a new drabble that I posted on Tumblr in 2016.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Steter

**Author's Note:**

> Stiles fantasizes about Peter, _a lot_.

It is usually something that Stiles does only in the privacy of his own home. Of course, as like everything, there are exceptions though Stiles tries really hard to not make an exception of jerking it in public places.

Seriously he does not have a exhibition kink. No way, nu uh, not at all.

  
Okay, _maybe_ just a little bit of one.

  
It is not like he acts on it, _much_. Just, you know, every once in awhile when a certain someone does something extremely arousing. Like pulling their shirt up to scratch idly at their stomach; or chuckling to themselves when they think no one is looking over something only they know happened.

  
Oh fuck it, let us just be real here and acknowledge that Stiles has a thing for Peter Hale and that thing always leave him half hard and aching to pull down his pants, pull out his dick, and stroke it just to show Peter how much the man affects him. _All_. _The_. _Time_.

  
Like now, when he hauled himself away to a closet - a fucking closet - and shoved his pants and briefs down to his ankles so he could tug at his ever hardening cock to images of Peter. All because the wolf had rubbed absentmindedly at his chest, leaving a perky nipple behind.

  
If Stiles had to guess he would say his urge to jerk off around Peter has escalated to a degree that others would probably say is extreme but to Stiles is just the norm. As in Peter walks in and Stiles’ breathing grows just that bit husky.

  
Peter probably does not know. Hopefully.

  
Okay, he probably knows but that is just because Stiles is slowly losing the ability to _care_ because he just wants so much for the wolf to acknowledge him, bend him over and use him. Stiles wants those strong hands to grip his cock tight and pull him off leisurely, like they have all the time in the world for Peter to take Stiles apart.

  
When Stiles fantasizes, eyes closed and head thrown back as he rubs a thumb over the slit of his cock, his every other word to Peter is a drawn out plea.

  
_Please grip me tighter. Please take your time. Please destroy my mind_.

  
Stiles would think he was going crazy if it were not for the fact that the wolf has yet ever to lay a hand on him, sexually at least, and therefore there is a clear divide between reality and fantasy - _unfortunately_.

  
In his daydreams Peter never loses his smirk and he nibbles his way down Stiles’ neck to his collarbone, every nip a counterpoint to Peter’s hand squeezing his cock. It is dizzying and heady and Stiles never wants the torture to stop.

  
Peter is always extremely warm, raising Stiles’ temperature wherever their bodies touch. It makes Stiles shiver whenever his fantasy Peter stops touching him, the absence a cold chill in his bones. He whimpers and cries out knowing that his fantasy Peter wants that reaction.

  
It is freeing to be Peter’s puppet in his daydreams.

  
“Well well, what do we have here.”

  
Stiles groans as he drops his head down, only opening his eyes after he takes a fortifying breath. _This_ is why he should not masturbate anywhere but at home.

  
Seeing Peter standing before him, legs spread and arms crossed as he surveys the mess that is Stiles in that moment, it is extraordinary. Peter’s nostrils flare as he takes in lungfuls of Stiles, and sweat, and spunk.

  
Stiles could not stop himself from stroking his cock even if he wanted to, and he can admit that he has been wanting Peter to see this for too long to ever seriously contemplate stopping. They lock eyes and Stiles pants, toes flexing in his shoes as he staves off his orgasm.

  
_This_ , he thinks at Peter, _is what you do to me_.

  
The wolf cannot read his mind but really, at this point, Stiles hardly thinks that is necessary. Peter’s smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth and it has Stiles hissing.

  
“ _Yes_.”

  
The wolf steps closer and Stiles’ hand speeds up. He is already so close but he wants to draw this out even further. Wants Peter close enough so that he can mark the wolf, imprint on him the way the wolf seems to have imprinted in Stiles’ mind.

  
“Oh Stiles,” Peter draws his name out. “Is this all for me?” He asks but obviously already knows the answer as his face lights up in delight.

  
He is delighted that he has reduced Stiles to this whimpering mess and it makes Stiles warm all over. If Stiles had a tail it would be wagging in his excitement over pleasing the man in front of him, because that is really all he wants to do - _please Peter_.

  
Peter leans forward and braces himself with his hands on either side of Stiles’ head against the wall. He has effectively caged Stiles in.

  
“My my my,” Peter breathes across Stiles’ lips. “What a pretty boy you are.”

  
And that is when Stiles loses it, coming in shuddering gasps all over himself.  
Peter continues to whisper praise into Stiles’ ear which draws out Stiles’ orgasm. He wants to fall into Peter’s warmth, surround himself in the man’s pleasure and never leave.

  
Peter seems to understand, maybe even has an inkling of the same kind of want for Stiles, because when the wolf nips at Stiles’ earlobe and whispers one final line, Stiles knows the wolf has him.

  
“On your knees Stiles. I’m going to teach you how to please a wolf.”


	2. Steter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes feelings come into play. Stiles lets them take him over in a moment of instinct.

“Now don’t be frightened. The doctor is just getting your shot ready.”

Stiles groaned and hid his head under his arms. “Oh my god, Peter. Shut the fuck up and just do it already.”

“Tsk tsk. There’s no need to be scared, this will only hurt a bit.” Peter said, the smirk easy to hear even if Stiles could not see it.

“For fucks sake! Stop being an asshole and just put your dick in me already.” Stiles growled, embarrassment spiking his arousal. He canted his hips, trying to entice Peter to stop talking and get to fucking.

Peter gave a light tap to Stiles’ ass as he hummed. “Don’t you worry, you will feel so much better after your shot.”

Stiles opened his mouth to retort but gasped instead as Peter slowly pushed his cock into Stiles’ waiting hole. 

“You’re not my fucking doctor.” Stiles managed to say. “Stop the roleplaying already.”

The Alpha ignored Stiles for the moment and rocked in and out slowly. Stiles whined at the pace but let Peter have full control.

“Oh but sweetheart, we both know I’m the only cure for that ache you’re feeling.” Peter replied smugly.

Stiles did not have anything to say to that since it was true and they both knew it. Instead Stiles relaxed his shoulders and let his body move into the rhythm Peter set knowing that soon it would not matter what Peter said as Stiles would be so far gone into his heat that the Alpha’s words would have no meaning.

It was an unconventional relationship they had, getting together to fuck whenever Stiles had his heat or Peter had his rut, but it worked for them. No  _feelings_ to get in the way - at least nothing stated outwardly. 

In the privacy of his own mind Stiles could admit to angsting over not being able to confront the Alpha with his true feelings, but that was neither here nor there. Two weeks out of every month Stiles was allowed to experience the rightness that came in being knotted to Peter and he would not give that up willingly.

He could feel his orgasm racing to its peak, the moment when all coherent thought for the next four to seven days would be lost to him, and he chased it with all his being. It was his favourite time, being able to enjoy the illusion of being mated to Peter without having to worry about accidentally spilling the beans - he would be too incoherent to communicate beyond grunts in answer to Peter’s care.

“That’s it darling, take your pleasure from me.” Peter praised him as he rolled his hips and shoved back hard to meet Peter’s thrust.

Stiles’ toes curled and heat bloomed in his stomach and he leaned his head back, tilting his neck invitingly for the Alpha. Peter obligingly leaned forward to nuzzle at Stiles’ neck, laying sweet kisses and nips up and down the column of Stiles’ neck.

In a moment of true clarity and absolute insanity, just as Stiles’ orgasm washed over him, he turned his head and bit into Peter’s bonding glands. 

He distantly heard Peter’s roar before his head was yanked away and an answering bite placed hard into his bonding glands. Stiles’ last thought was how right it felt when Peter pulled his mouth away and viciously whispered  _“Mine”_ into the Omega’s ear.


	3. Steter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was so much wrong with their relationship and Stiles could only be happy now that at least Peter would no longer have any obligation to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Major Character Death. This is not a happy little drabble, I cried while writing it.

“Peter!” Stiles yelled out as soon as he heard the front door opening.

“What?”

It was such a relief to hear Peter’s voice even as it felt like he could not really breathe at all. He tried to form his words, come up with something, but all he could manage was Peter’s name. “Peter!”

He heard a sigh, long and drawn out with the intent to inform Stiles that he was irritating the older man. 

“What, Stiles?” Peter shouted back.

It was very clear to Stiles that Peter was annoyed, that he had perhaps had a long day, but Stiles needed him now - even at the expense of further bothering his older lover.

They had been having a rough time of it and this was not likely to make it any better.

“Peter!”

It was his own fault that he was in the predicament he was in, bleeding out at the bottom of the basement stairs after he had tripped. The floor was concrete and Stiles had been knocked out, he is not sure how long he had been down there but given that Peter was now home form work he had a good guess.

If it were not for the fact that Peter barely wanted to be around him at all the older man probably would have been able to smell the blood, for there was a large pool of it, but his frustration with Stiles of late made him ignore his wolf. Peter’s wolf still wanted it’s mate even if the man was long past his love.

“For fuck’s sake Stiles! I just walked in, let me get comfortable before you fucking start yelling at me.” Peter growled. 

And that was not fair. Peter made it sound like this was a common occurrence, being yelled at as soon as he walked in the door, which was just blatantly untrue. They barely even spoke to one another now.

Peter only stayed because his wolf would not allow him to leave.

“Peter.” Stiles whispered, his voice gruff and weak. He did not care if he left the world because at least it would mean the older man would be free, but he so wanted one last time to be held, to be _loved_.

Just one last time he wanted to be selfish, wanted to force Peter to act like everything was going well; act like he loved Stiles. 

Stiles’ silent tears joined the wide pool of red surrounding him and he wondered if he cried enough, if the tears would eventually win out and drown the blood.

Stiles could hear his blood flowing in his brain, the white noise rush of it drowning out all other noises. His limbs were numb, the only warmth in his body centred on his heart. It was ironic that the organ keeping him alive was also slowly killing him, but he was almost gone now so he was not too bothered about it anymore.

“Stiles, I heard you the first time! You don’t-” Peter’s yell cut off abruptly and Stiles wondered why.

He felt so warm now, the pain gone. It was so nice.

“Stiles?!”

Stiles blinked open heavy eyes and smiled faintly one last time as he saw Peter’s gorgeous blue eyes looking down at him.

“Goodbye Peter.” Stiles said as he closed his eyes. “I never stopped loving you.”


	4. Through Your Window (Steter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter's stalker-ish tendencies coming out to play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dreamt up this drabble and also thought I'd only dreamt typing it up on my phone but I woke up and there this was written. Go figure.

Peter liked the shift from Winter to Spring. It was not because the flowers started blooming, and it was not because the humans started shedding layers in preparation for the hotter temperature. 

No, it was because he liked watching one human’s amusing little habit. Peter had only been watching this little clockwork-like habit since he had come back from the dead, but enough time had passed that he had garnered it to be almost routine in its consistency. 

The human in question, Stiles, was the type of person to continuously wear layers so it made sense to Peter that that would translate into the young human’s sleeping habits as well. 

Peering in through Stiles’ bedroom window and seeing him practically buried under blankets, he was almost, _cute_. It was perhaps the only time Peter had ever observed the human being still. 

Peter itched to press his cold nose against the sensitive skin of the human’s ribs just to watch him squirm. 

While seeing Stiles covered in layers of blankets fascinated him, it was more so the human’s process of shedding layers as the weather became progressively hotter that utterly captivated Peter. 

The human would start by shedding the outermost blanket, a thin fleecy thing that Peter thought was useless. Stiles never seemed to notice that it was off the bed though every year it inevitably found its way on top of the blankets Stiles covered himself in. 

The next layer to go was a quilt that held some weight to it - Peter had once picked the blanket up in curiosity - and that is when the fun started taking place. 

It was always the second layer being taken off that Peter looked forward to as it meant the real fun was soon to begin.

Once the quilt was off the restlessness started peeking through. Nothing altogether terribly spastic, but a flail of an arm here or a twitch of a leg there. All the movements that governed the human’s movements throughout the day would finally make an appearance as the layers came off. 

Peter loved it. 

When the third layer came off, the comforter, is when things really started moving; Peter’s nights became infinitely more entertaining once the comforter came off. 

It was almost as if, by shedding the layers, the cage holding back the boundless power was thinning. 

Peter heard it like a clock in his head, the ticking of the sand falling through the glass, counting down the days until Stiles was set loose. He hungered for it with a passion that he craved, like a drug. 

(Stiles would be the death of him and Peter would welcome the human with open arms.)

With the third layer gone the young human’s restless movements ratcheted up. This was the time that Stiles moved the most. 

It was almost as if the human were seeking something, rolling around and around his bed. He was came so close to the edge, and Peter can admit to harbouring thoughts of amusement should the human ever roll all the way off. 

Peter wondered what is was about that comforter coming off that always, inevitably, cast away the paralysis that seemed sunk into Stiles’ bones. 

With the throwing off of the fourth layer, another thin fleecy thing, Stiles was left with his last layer - the sheet. 

This was where the amusement factor soared. It was also the time when Peter fought with himself the most, controlling the urges that had him itching to dive into the room.

Underneath just a sheet, the human practically vibrated with energy. The tossing and turning was continuous, and if not for the utter lack of sound beyond breathing, Peter would think the young human was experiencing nightmares. 

Yet no whimpers were heard, no screams to bring the older human in. Just Stiles, in his bed, moving.

Peter was utterly inthralled that one could sleep so soundly and yet move so much. He knew better though, knew the restlessness spoke to an _otherness_ that just rested below the surface.

It was intoxicating to be so close to those moments when that _otherness_ was just so close to stepping out into the world. Peter wondered if the _otherness_ would like him more, wondered if the churlishness that Stiles greeted him with would go away once the human could be his full self, _not human_.

(He thought so because the human barely kept up the guise of dislike towards Peter now, as it was.)

Seeing the young human toss and turn aroused Peter, if only for the thought of being able to stymie the movements just by laying his entire body on top of the young human.

The key was in the layers, they comforted the human and made him still. Peter could do that just as well.

It was hard to stop his eager panting when the windows were opened and the scent of sweat hit his nose. The sweat smells of Stiles in sleep a heady perfume that Peter wanted to trace to the source.

Even with only a sheet as covering, the young human still managed to work himself up into a state of _wetness_. Peter wanted to hold him down, cover him from head to toe, and groom him. Lick up all that sweat and taste the tartness of _otherness_ , feel it spark up his tongue.

The thought always made Peter growl.

The closer summer was the worse the movements became and the more aroused Peter was because of it; the less self control Peter had.

It was the shattering of many years of control that finally, one hot july night, that had Peter slinking through the window and slinking gingerly over to the bed. It was a mere step up onto the bed and then Peter had it, everything he had envisioned.

The human beneath him, twitching.

Peter laid his body down on top of Stiles and all movements stopped. Peter waited.

The body underneath his finally relaxed, a slow smile spreading up the corners of the human’s mouth, and Peter had but a moment of victory before wise eyes opened to regard him.

“ _I’ve been waiting for you_.”


	5. Steter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alpha Peter answers the call to search out the wild thing in the woods.

It was a beautiful sight to behold, the little Omega hunched over and baring his teeth. His eyes were bright, shining, and wild. 

Peter was slightly in love.

There had been noise in the town of a wild creature in the woods. When Peter had answered the call, along with a number of other Alpha’s from around town, he had not expected the sight that now met his eyes.

Peter wonders how long the Omega had been out in the woods, without food and left to defend himself, the little thing's clothing torn in places and bloodied. Though Peter, along with all the other Alpha’s, could clearly see that the little Omega was not defenceless.

The little thing was snarling, claws extended, surrounded by the dead bodies of a pack of wild mangy coyotes. It was truly an impressive sight.

If only the Omega would let anyone near him.

So far, among the gathered Alpha’s, three had ventured forward only to return with gouges scored along their arms and faces. That would teach the idiots to approach a wild thing without care.

Peter knew better. He knew a wild creature’s will almost as well as his own, for the savagery of an unrestricted being lived just beneath the surface of his skin.

He rolled his shoulders back and took a deep breath, tutting at the Alpha that had just stepped forward. No, this Omega was going to fall to Peter’s will.

Peter eyed the Omega, waiting for it it’s circling to bring him face to face with Peter, before opening his mouth and roaring.

The sound cleared the birds from the trees and even caused a few of the gathered Alpha’s to startle. It was not their reaction that Peter was waiting for, though. He waited with bated breath, chest heaving as he hunched forward, to see what the Omega would do.

The little thing did not flinch but it did turn it’s full attention on Peter.

Rolling back onto his heels, the Omega made as if to straighten himself, and then lunged.

Peter is sure the grin that split his face spoke of bloodied and war torn times and he revelled in the acknowledgement that glittered momentarily in the Omega’s eyes just as he hit the Alpha.

They grappled, the Omega’s claws digging in deep to Peter’s shoulders before tearing out and aiming for the Alpha’s sensitive and exposed neck. Peter laughed as he caught the Omega’s hands and felt the claws just kiss the back of his hands before he managed to squeeze, stopping the motion.

With his hands presently tied, the Omega wasted no time in rearing forward with the intent of using his teeth to tear out the Alpha’s throat. Peter wished he could interrupt it with a kiss that would no doubt turn bloody, but those were fantasies best saved for later.

Instead, in a maneuver that showed off his strength, Peter bore the Omega to the ground, effectively pinning the feral little creature. He managed to pin the Omega’s hands to his own chest, allowing for the little shit to dig his claws into Peter’s own chest.

Though Peter was careful not to crush the little one, he made sure to have enough of his weight on the Omega so that the feral things thrashing was held to a minimum.

Up close Peter was finally able to get a good whiff of the Omega, and underneath all the sweat, dirt, and blood, came the natural perfume that made up a ripe Omega’s smell. It was heady.

The little thing’s head was still whipping from side to side so Peter brought up one of his hands and gently, but effectively, gripped the Omega’s head and shoved it into the crook of his neck. That was where his Alpha scent was most concentrated and it would aid in soothing the savage one beneath him.

Peter paid for his decision a moment later when teeth sunk in deep to the meat of his neck, drawing blood that undoubtedly bathed the little one’s face. Unfortunately for the Omega it also had the benefit of releasing Peter’s pheromones in dizzying waves.

The teeth did not release their prize but Peter could feel the little chest heaving as the body beneath his slowly stopped moving. The claws currently dug in deep to his chest retracted and little hands flexed against his chest, as if the Omega was regaining feeling in the tips of his fingers.

Peter could hear that he and the Omega were now the only one’s in the surrounding area, the other Alpha’s most likely having left when they saw that Peter had everything well in hand, and let his body finally relax. He allowed for a little more of his weight to settle onto the Omega.

A slight sigh met his ears in the next instant before the very sharp teeth finally let go of his neck. Peter did not allow himself to react, almost holding his breath to see what the captivating creature would do next.

Little licks met his patience and Peter groaned inwardly as arousal zinged through his body. The Omega was taking into himself the very essence that kept Peter alive and that fired the blood in his veins.

The little one was Peter’s, he just had to show the little one how much he was equally the Omega’s.

The Omega’s breathing was still erratic, the heartbeat thundering in Peter’s ears, but the struggling had all but stopped. The little licks continued long past the time that Peter’s body would have done its job and scabbed over the wound. He was viciously satisfied over it.

Peter rolled them over and sat up, taking care to arrange the little one so that he was curled up on Peter’s lap with his head still tucked into Peter’s neck. Peter was very gratified when his movements were not met with any struggles.

A little nose skimmed up the length of his neck and Peter angled his head slightly so that the Omega would have more access. A little chuffing accompanied the little’s ones fervent scenting before he drew back to look the Alpha full in the eye.

There was still a wild glint to the Omega’s eyes but he was infinitely more settled than even Peter had hopped and Peter met his look with uninhibited grin.

He could not wait to get to know the now gentled intoxicating creature sitting in his lap. He brought a hand up to caress the Omega’s cheek and received a strong bite to his fingers for his efforts.

Peter’s barking laugh rang out through the forest.


	6. Steter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story of how Stiles ended up being taught Yoga by Peter.

“Feel the burn, they said. Breathe in deeply and breathe out the pain, they said. Well fuck this!” Stiles grumbled as he kicked out his right leg, trying to shake out the Charlie horse.

As a way to reduce the tension in his body, and reduce stress, it had been suggested to Stiles that he start doing yoga. Which found Stiles seated on the ground and hissing in pain as his leg seized up for the umpteenth time.

“Who in their right mind would use these stretches to stretch? I swear I’m doing my body more harm.” He groaned as he rolled onto his stomach and star-fished.

This was the third day Stiles had started - and been stopped due to cramping - yoga and he was done with it. Sure he could see the benefit in it, had even read numerous articles and blogs about people who loved the activity, but it was just not for him.

Stiles huffed into the ground and closed his eyes. A nap would be way more beneficial right now than failing yet again at yoga.

“What are you doing?”

Stiles flailed in surprise and whacked his toes on the coffee table. He cursed as pain shot up his leg and pulsed in his newly bruised appendages. Rolling over, Stiles flipped off the intruder.

“What are you doing here? And how did you get it?” He asked, glaring at Peter as the wolf smirked down at him.

“I used the front door.” Peter answered blithely.

Stiles was unimpressed with that answer. “The front door was locked.” He pushed himself to his hands and knees, leaning back on his heels so he could assess Peter properly.

The older man was dressed down, in a looser fitting t-shirt and what appeared to be sweat pants.

“Yes, it was. I used my key.” Peter responded, dangling said keys from his fingers.

“How-why do you have keys to my house? Which the Sheriff lives in, might I add.” Stiles asked, eyes following Peter as the wolf moved further into the living room.

“Because I wanted a set.” Peter said, giving Stiles a look that said he was an idiot.

Stiles gestured around the room. “And you’re here because?”

“Ah,” Peter smiled. “I’m here because I heard you’ve taken on yoga.” He said as if that completely answered all of the questions Stiles could possibly have. It did not even come close.

“Yeah, no. Want to run that by me one more time?”

Peter sighed, a long drawn out thing that made Stiles want to reach across the space separating them and strangle the wolf.

“It is quite simple Stiles, so do pay attention. I am here to teach you yoga. It is very apparent that you’re struggling and need my help.” Peter concluded as he knelt on the ground across from Stiles.

“I would ask how you know that but I definitely already know the answer. And my response is no, I don’t want your help.” Stiles said, trying to be as smarmy as possible.

“Lucky for you I’m feeling generous today so I’m going to ignore the attitude and we’ll get right to it.”

Stiles gaped as Peter made himself comfortable, arranging himself on his knees. He gestured for Stiles to do the same.

“Peter, no.” Stiles tried to impart his seriousness to the wolf.

The older man merely smirked. “Peter, yes.” He paused, as if weighing some options in his mind before speaking again. “Or I could give you a massage to help release the tension and stress in your body. I know which option I would rather.”

Stiles shuddered. “No, no no no. Yoga it is.”

Peter shrugged. “Pity.” He motioned for Stiles to copy him, and Stiles begrudgingly did.


	7. (Un)Conscious Coupling (Steter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter's things keep going missing. It's Derek that finally figures out what's happening to them.

“Okay, which one of you shits took my pen?”

The question was met with silence.

“None of you? Really? Mhm, I find that extremely hard to believe.”

Stiles looked around while trying not to snort. He could see similar expressions on the faces of Isaac, Scott, and Allison while Derek and Lydia ignored Peter’s questions. Really this was not a new situation, even if the object Peter was looking for had changed from last week’s missing sweater.

“It’s amusing how you all assume I will keep helping you out when you’ve taken my favourite pen.”

Stiles sighed. “Peter, no one took your favourite pen.”

“And yet it is not where I left it.”

“Did it, by chance, fall on the floor?” Stiles asked faux innocently, biting his lip at Scott’s snort.

Peter very purposefully turned to face Stiles. “No, dear Stiles, my pen did _not_ fall on the floor.”

“Well that settles it!” Stiles yelled out, startling everyone. “The world as we know it is _over_.” He gasped dramatically, clutching at his chest. “We cannot go on. Peter’s favourite pen is gone! Everyone, save yourselves while you still can!” Stiles flopped back onto the couch, mock fainting onto Allison’s lap.

The exclamation was met with roaring laughter from Scott and Isaac while everyone else laughed. Except Peter, of course, who fumed and stormed up the stairs.

“Seriously Stiles, do you have to egg him on?” Derek huffed, perpetual frown in place.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Oh come on Derek, he makes it too easy. And it’s not like I actually took his _precious_ _pen_.”

Derek sighed and turned back to the book he was reading. That seemed to be the signal to resume researching as everyone went back to work.

Stiles made himself comfortable with his head in Allison’s lap and hummed softly as she carded her fingers through his hair. It felt nice, relaxing even, but he could not help but think how much better it would feel if the hand were just a tiny bit bigger and stronger.

* * *

It was a rare day that Stiles was the first one to make it to the loft for hang outs. Usually he was one of the last ones to arrive and he always got dealt the crappy seating by virtue of all the good spots being taken.

He glanced around the loft taking in all of his options. He grinned when his eyes landed on the big love seat near the corner and he threw his backpack onto it as he made his way to the kitchen.

Since he was the first to arrive it was only fair that he start on the coffee and boil the water in the kettle for tea. Stiles set about pulling out all the mugs and placing them on the counter, grabbing the sugar bowl and spoons.

He was just placing the last of the mugs on the counter when his phone buzzed in his backpack and he raced over to get it.

“Hey Scotty!” 

“Hey dude, we’re ordering pizza tonight. Do you want your usual order one or two?” Scott asked and Stiles could hear Isaac in the background grumbling about Stiles having two usual orders.

“Um,” Stiles pursed his lips as he bounced on his feet. “Usual two today.”

“Sure thing! Love you!” 

Stiles laughed as he zipped his backpack up tight and stuffed it into the corner of the seat. “Love you too, you big ol’ pile of goo.”

The line went dead and Stiles hung up, dropping his phone into his pocket as he made his way back to the kitchen. He counted the mugs and noticed that he had one less than he should have and grabbed one more out of the cupboard. With that done he grabbed a glass of water for himself and got comfortable in his chosen seat for the night.

It was not long before people started showing up but Stiles was quite vested in beating the level of candy crush he was stuck on and thus was only pulled into the real world when Peter growled.

“Where is my mug?”

Lydia sighed from her seat on the couch. “Seriously, not this again.”

“ _Yes_ , Lydia, this again.” Peter hissed at her. “My mug, as in the one I use every single time we are here, is gone.” 

Peter paced throughout the kitchen, opening every single cupboard in search of his mug. After inspecting the entire kitchen Peter finally turned to glare at everyone currently present.

“I am well past the point of finding these pranks funny. _Who took my mug_?” 

Stiles decided to speak up, willingly taking on Peter’s wrath as the wolf seemed to respond to him less severely than the others. “Peter, I was here first and I set out the mugs and I can honestly say that I did not see your mug. Are you sure you did not take it home last time?”

It was almost comical the way Peter pinched the bridge of his nose in response to Stiles’ question.

“Someone, and I do not care who, better replace my mug. I expect it back next time I’m here or else there will be consequences.” Peter said, taking the time to make eye contact with each of them before storming towards the door.

The door had just slammed in Peter’s wake when it was being opened again by Scott and Isaac who entered carrying pizza.

“Okay, what was that about?” The Alpha asked as he set the pizza onto the table.

“Apparently now Peter’s mug has gone missing.” Allison said, shrugging as she made her way into the kitchen.

Scott frowned but shrugged and that was that, no one spoke of Peter for the rest of the night.

It was an enjoyable night for Stiles except for the constant nagging feeling at the back of his mind that just would not go away.

* * *

For the next couple of weeks the number of Peter’s things that went missing kept growing. It escalated to the point that Peter almost never showed up to hang out with the pack, and when he was there he was constantly frustrated.

It was, admittedly, getting to be ridiculous and had the pack speculating over the situation.

“Okay but seriously, who would be specifically targeting Peter with their petty thievery?” Lydia asked one night. “Out of all of us he is the one most likely to lose it over the smallest of things and definitely the one to hold a grudge the longest. Whoever is taking his stuff if going to be in for a world of pain once he finds 

them.”

Stiles nodded in agreement with her statement. Peter could be scary in his vengeance, as they well knew first hand, and he pitied the person who was going out of their way to antagonize Peter. Though pity was probably not the right word since it seemed the thief was being very specific in whose items they took.

“Whoever this is is making a concerted effort to gain Peter’s attention. And while they are being obvious about it they are also being quite sneaky as well because they are managing to cover their scent since we can never detect any smells but pack smells here. If I had to make an educated guess…” Derek trailed off as his mouth dropped open.

That got the pack’s attention.

“If you had to make an educated guess?” Allison prompted.

“I don’t have to guess.” Derek stated. “I know exactly what is happening.”

Everyone waited for Derek to continue but the omega merely grinned to himself.

“And?” Isaac asked.

“It seems there is an omega who is interested in Peter. This is all the classic signs of an omega who is nesting.”

One by one the pack member’s sat up in shock as the truth of Derek’s words made themselves known.

“Oh my god!” Lydia giggled, the sound not altogether nice.

Stiles ignored the pack’s reactions as the revelation sank like a pit in his stomach. It unsettled him though for the life of him he could not understand why.

Peter was a great man, a respectable Alpha by any means even if he was a sarcastic asshole, and he deserved to have an Omega court him. There was no reason why Stiles should not be laughing along with the rest of the pack as they thought up scenarios of what Peter’s reaction might be.

He definitely should have been partaking in the opportunity to laugh over Peter’s predicament as the Alpha had a tendency to do the same to all the pack members. Yet Stiles could not find it in himself. 

Instead the Omega tucked himself further back into his seat and was grateful that no one seemed to notice his uncharacteristic silence.

When the night finally came to an end Stiles was only to happy to make a quick escape back home. His stomach was cramping in an odd way and all he wanted to do was curl up in a ball under his blankets.

When he finally walked into his house it felt like he could breathe and walking into his room relaxed the muscles in his stomach. His room seemed to stabilize all the roiling emotions he was currently experiencing.

“Well well well if it isn’t the little thief.”

Stiles startled and spun towards his bed where Peter was currently sitting.

“Excuse me?” Stiles asked, letting indignation bubble up to hide his surprise.

“Oh sweetheart, let’s not play dumb.” Peter said as he stood up. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Stiles raised an eyebrow at Peter as the Alpha stepped into his personal space. Stiles really had no idea what notion had wormed its way into Peter’s head now but he honestly did not feel like dealing with it.

“Peter, go home. I’ll deal with your shit tomorrow.” Stiles shoved at Peter and made his way to his closet.

The sudden warmth at his back was the only warning Stiles’ received before Peter’s arms wrapped around him and pulled the omega back into the alpha’s chest. 

“You’re not going to find what you’re looking for.” Peter whispered into his ear.

Stiles turned his head to look at the alpha. “What are you talking about?”

“What were you going to get out of your closet Stiles?” The Alpha asked instead of answering Stiles’ question.

“I was going to get-” Stiles paused, unsure of the answer to that question. He had not been consciously aware that he was even making his way towards the closet.

“Would you like a clue?” Peter asked, his warm breath ghosting over Stiles’ ear.

“How would you know what I was going to get when even I don’t know what I was going to get?” Stiles huffed in exasperation. 

“You were going to pull out everything for your nest.”

That shocked Stiles out of his stupor and caused him to push out of the Alpha’s hold. He turned to face Peter with a frown.

“My nest? Stop being an ass Peter. I think I would know if I was nesting.” 

Except there was a sense of dread filling Stiles’ stomach as pieces of the puzzle started to click into place. Stiles’ growing restlessness; Peter’s missing personal effects; Stiles’ disquiet at learning that some other Omega was potentially courting Peter.

Stiles was fucking nesting.

“Oh my god.” Stiles breathed out quietly, although still loud enough for Peter to hear.

The Alpha let out a hum of agreement and pulled Stiles back into his arms. “I’ll admit it took me longer than it should have to put all the pieces together but once I did I knew exactly who’s house to visit to find my missing items.”

Stiles gaped up at the Alpha before turning to look at his closet.

“Ah ah ah, they won’t be there.”

Stiles looked back at Peter as his heart sank. The Alpha did not want him.

“Oh no, Stiles.” Peter lifted Stiles’ chin up with his right hand. “I did not take them back, merely moved them.” Peter nodded his head towards Stiles’ bed.

“You mean- really?” Stiles’ asked, eyes switching from looking at Peter to the bed, and back.

Peter nodded, a slight smile tilting up the corners of his mouth. Stiles pushed out of Peter’s arms and practically bounced onto his bed. He flipped back the covers and underneath, nestled perfectly, were all of Peter’s missing items interspersed with numerous blankets and pillows.

Stiles let out an omega yip at the sight and flopped into his nest. Peter let out an alpha rumble in response and swiftly joined Stiles in the nest, pulling the omega into his embrace.

“You know, I did not even realise I was courting you.” Stiles admitted, ducking his head.

“I know.” Peter said as he kissed the top of Stiles’ head. “That just makes it all the sweeter.”

Though Stiles knew they would have a lot to talk about he let himself be lulled in his nest. His instincts were pushing at him to scent the Alpha that had accepted his courting and for once Stiles was consciously listening to them. It was the most relaxed he had been in months.


	8. Steter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter knew this day would come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little something I wrote for a 5 minute writing challenge.

_I’ll be here when you get back._

Those words tumble around his brain as he looks around the empty house. He knew this day was coming, and yet that did not make it any easier to accept.

_I won’t ever leave you._

A promise made under the darkness of a moonless sky, with nothing between them but open air. It definitely was not something Peter had ever put any concrete thought in believing.

For who could tether a spark meant for greater things than comforting a wolf who had lost it all in a blaze, certainly not the wolf himself. For as much as people said Peter could not love, he would not have held his mate back.

Stiles had come brightly into his life, fixing everything with his smiles and love. Peter could keep those memories, cherish them until his inevitable end.

Even a spark as powerful as Stiles could not alter time for long without consequences beyond his control, no matter the bravado infused in his every breath. Watching that fire flicker and fade had been too much for Peter and he had left the house, making it easier for the two of them.

His little time traveling mate, blazing through his life in one breath and ghosting out of it in the next.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think. 
> 
> ~ M


End file.
